


The Bestest Brother

by TheLittleRedWhoCouldWrite



Series: Unnatural Writers [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Brother Feels, Dean gets really drunk, Dean/Unnamed Woman, F/M, Like really really drunk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-04
Updated: 2016-03-04
Packaged: 2018-05-24 18:13:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6162237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheLittleRedWhoCouldWrite/pseuds/TheLittleRedWhoCouldWrite
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean is stressed. Sam is worried.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Bestest Brother

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not a big fan of songfics, so this was hard to write, but here it is!
> 
> Song is "Brother" by NEEDTOBREATHE ft. Gavin DeGraw

Dean pushes the door of the Bunker open. The sun is just beginning to rise, turning the clouds orange and pink, but he doesn’t see it as he slides into the front seat of the Impala. He shoves an old cassette tape into the slot, turns the key in the ignition, and speeds off.

_ Ramblers in the wilderness we can’t find what we need. _

_ Get a little restless from the searching, _

_ Get a little worn down in between. _

Sam wakes with a start. Groaning, he fumbles for his phone. Either he hit the snooze button or Dean messed with his alarm again, because the big numbers read eight o’clock. With a sigh, Sam drags himself from bed.

There’s coffee in the pot, thank goodness. He pours himself a cup and flops down into one of the kitchen chairs. Cas wanders in not long after to ask for new batteries for the remote for the TV Dean installed in the Angel’s room. Sam directs him to the younger Winchester’s room to use the TV there, mostly because he doesn’t know if they even have batteries.

Halfway through his coffee, Sam’s awake enough to throw together a quick omelet without burning down the Bunker. He’s three bites in before he realizes something’s up.

_ Like a bull chasing the matador is the man left to his own schemes. _

_ Everybody needs someone beside ‘em, _

_ Shining like a lighthouse from the sea. _

“Have you seen Dean?” Sam asks as he picks a t-shirt and flannel from his dresser drawer.

“I haven’t,” Cas says, tearing his gaze away from the TV. “Why do you ask?”

“I haven’t seen him, either.”

“Perhaps he’s asleep still.”

“Maybe.”

_ Brother let me be your shelter. _

_ I’ll never leave you all alone. _

_ I can be the one you call when you’re low. _

_ Brother let me be your fortress when the night winds are driving on. _

_ Be the one to light the way, _

_ Bring you home. _

Dean checks into the first motel he comes across when he reaches his destination. Across the street is a bar- bright neon letter spell “Roadhouse” across the front and an “open” sign flashes in one window. He tosses his duffle on the bed closest to the door and realizes he asked for two queens out of habit. He pushes the though from his mind and heads across the street.

_ Face down in the desert now there’s a cage locked around my heart _

_ I found a way to drop the keys where my failures were _

_ Now my hands can’t reach that far _

Sam is in a panic. Dean is gone and he took the Impala with him. As if things couldn’t get worse, Dean’s not answer any of Sam’s calls or texts. He’s sure Cas could find him if he asked, but the Angel is a wreck still and has been holed up in one bedroom or another watching TV for the last few weeks. He’s likely to not be very helpful.

_ I ain’t made for a rivalry I could never take the world alone _

_ I know that in my weakness I am strong, but _

_ It’s your love that brings me home _

Dean’s not sure what time it is or how many drinks he’s had. In fact, he’s not sure of much besides the fact that there is a pretty blonde in his bed and he still feels drunk. That’s new.

The bed dips as the girl gets up. He can hear her moving around, and then the motel room door opens and closes. Dean sighs and rolls over to look at the other bed- the one that would usually be Sam’s.

Sam.

Shit.

When Sam’s phone rings, he’s lying in bed staring at the ceiling. He dives for the device, yanking it off the charger.

“Dean?” he says hopefully, pressing it to his ear.

“Hiya, Sammy.”

“Dean, are you drunk?”

“A bit. I, um… I don’t think I should drive.”

“At least you still have some sense. Where the hell are you?”

Dean mumbles an address, which Sam scribbles down on the notepad he pulls from the drawer of his bedside table.

“Dean, that’s three and a half hours away. Why are you in Omaha?”

“Dunno. Just… come get me?”

“Yeah, I’m on my way. Don’t move.”

“Not planning on it.”

Sam hangs up and immediately searches for a bus route.

_ And when you call and need me near, _

_ Sayin' “Where'd you go?” _

_ Brother I'm right here. _

Dean’s sprawled on one of two beds when Sam arrives. The elder Winchester has a beer in one hand, the other arm thrown over his face. Sam got one of the motel employees to let him in- if there’s one thing he’s learned from his brother, it’s that little old ladies can’t resist the Winchester charms.

“S’mmy,” Dean slurs, lifting the beer in his direction.

“I didn’t think you could even get drunk anymore,” Sam sighs. “Where are the Impala keys?”

“Pocket, I think.” The older man wriggles around until he’s kicked the blankets off. “Where’re my pants?”

Sam rolls his eyes and picks the lost item of clothing up off the floor. He digs around in the pockets until he finds the keys. Dean isn’t coordinated enough to put the jeans on himself, so Sam has to help with that. He also has to practically carry his brother to the car.

“In you go,” he says, shoving Dean into the passenger seat. He pries the beer bottle from his fingers and replaces it with water. “Drink this and stay here. I’m going to get your stuff and check you out.”

_ And on those days when the sky begins to fall _

_ You're the blood of my blood _

_ We can get through it all _

Sam glances over at his brother, passed out in the passenger seat. It’s been years since he’s seen Dean get this wasted. He’s not sure what set it off, but it’s probably got something to do with the Darkness. Dean won’t talk about it willingly, he knows, and it’ll be a nightmare to force anything out of him about it.

“S’mmy?” Dean murmurs, head turning towards the younger Winchester.

Oh, so he isn’t completely unconscious. “Yeah, Dean?”

“Thanks fer comin’ ta get me.”

Sam can’t help a smile. “I’ll always come get you, Dean. That’s what brothers are for.”

Dean smiles, too, though it’s very lopsided. “You’re ta bestest brotha…” he trails off and slumps against the driver window.

Sam drives the rest of the way back to the Bunker with a smile on his face.

_ Brother let me be your shelter. _

_ I’ll never leave you all alone. _

_ I can be the one you call when you’re feelin' low. _

_ Brother let me be your fortress when the night winds are driving on. _

_ Be the one to light the way, _

_ Bring you home. _


End file.
